


The Last Firebender

by sinistercinnamon



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 'I swear to Me if you don't play nice I am taking your toys away!', (they want Zuko on the throne right now & Iroh is like 'this is a literal child'), (yep still on my bullshit), Agni is just So Done, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, F/M, Firebending & Firebenders, Kyoshi Island, Kyoshi Warrior Zuko (Avatar), Long-Haired Zuko (Avatar), Loss of Bending Ability, Protective Iroh (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar), sinister Order of the White Lotus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistercinnamon/pseuds/sinistercinnamon
Summary: Agni has stood by as his children have used their gifts to burn the world, consumed with despair but reluctant to interfere. When the one who is meant to act as his intermediary in the mortal realm burns his own son in a shocking act of cruelty in front of a crowd who fail to step in, that is the final straw.The Fire Nation descends into chaos at the sudden loss of Firebending, & the war becomes bloodier still, as the troops fight on out of sheer desperation, terrified that a reckoning is now due.And then Iroh, tending his injured nephew while trying to keep him safe from a vengeful father who blames him for this calamity, realises that Zuko's inner flame still burns...
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Suki & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 81
Kudos: 431





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My 3rd WIP posted in the space of 24 hours. Given my chronic inability to keep up with a consistent update schedule for even one fic at a time, this is probably not a smart plan. But I'm gonna try, damnit!

The great spirits do not understand time as humans do. Eons can pass in a blink and the life of a mayfly-spider can last as long as that of a star.

So when his children slaughter the Air Nomads, Agni's reaction is both immediate and delayed. Long seconds pass as he hesitates, wary of stepping in; lesser spirits might indulge in games and mischief here and there, but the great spirits rarely interfere too much in mortal affairs, preferring to let mortals learn from their own mistakes. As he hesitates, fires rage across the Earth Kingdom, the dragons are hunted down and killed, and Tui wails as her children are taken.

This is more than the usual petty arguments among mortals. Something should be done. But should Agni really step in where he normally tried to avoid doing so? And besides, isn't this precisely what the Avatar is for?

But the Avatar remains sleeping in the ice, and brief millennia go by as Agni waits for him to wake.

Decades have now passed as the humans measure the passing of time. The one who started this conflict, a man who is meant to represent Agni's will upon the mortal realm, is now dead, as is the man who followed him.

The world burns, and lives are reduced to ashes.

Agni wonders if there is any worth in stepping in. The lives already lost will not be restored. The homes already burned will not rebuild themselves. People who do not remember a world where they didn't hate will not easily hold out a hand of friendship to those they'd been fighting.

And then the man who now leads his children, the grandson of the man who started this all, who claims authority from Agni in this crusade, invokes his name in order to burn his own child in front of a cheering crowd who do nothing to prevent it.

All because that child had asked for mercy for his people, and begged for it for himself.

No.

No more.

⁂

Iroh turned away the moment he saw his brother's hand moving towards his nephew's face, but he was unable to block out the screams.

He should have stepped in. He should have done something. He should have prevented this farce of a duel – even believing it had been some old General, he should still not have allowed it to go ahead. He should have challenged Ozai when he'd usurped the throne with the flimsy excuse of a convenient and sudden death and a last minute change to their father's will. He should have stepped in more when Ozai berated his son over small mistakes.

But he hadn't.

It felt as if the screaming went on forever...

And then, at last, it stopped, and there was the soft sound of a body hitting the floor in the sudden silence.

And then _everything_ stopped. Darkness fell as the sun itself disappeared and every flame burning in the hall was snuffed out.

And Iroh felt suddenly cold inside.

The sun reappeared a moment later, but the torches did not re-light and the cold emptiness didn’t dissipate.

He held out a hand, already knowing what he would find, but needing to confirm anyway. No flame appeared in his palm. Around him he could feel panic sweeping the crowd as other people made their own attempts with equally successful results.

He looked out again, to see his brother still standing near his prone son, looking increasingly incredulous as attempt after attempt to summon so much as a spark ended in failure.

Zuko was too small, too still... Please, he can cope with the loss of his Fire, but not his nephew, please Agni no...

Then the small form twitched slightly, and he almost wanted to collapse with relief. _Zuko is alive_. But he couldn’t, because if he didn’t do something right now, his survival will be short-lived.

Iroh knew his brother will not see this sign for what it was, will not accept that this was a judgement from Agni himself for his cruelty; he will blame Zuko for this.

Taking advantage of the chaos, he dashed onto the stage far quicker than people would expect a man of his size to be able to move, and grabbed his nephew.

And ran.

⁂

He wanted to run straight out of the palace, but you didn’t rise to the rank of General without learning that the preparations and strategising that went into a battle was as important as the fighting itself – often more so.

So he stopped by Zuko's rooms, to grab something for him to wear that didn’t smell of burned flesh. Perhaps some familiar reminders of a home he will likely never see again, too?

He did not even think of stopping by his own rooms; he could manage.

(He refused to consider the possibility that Zuko might not survive, may never have any need for clothing or mementos, that the only thing he might need to provide could be funeral rites.)

For all his commitment to preparations, his packing was both hasty and haphazard, and he was sure that when he checked the bag later he will find he has picked up one or two things that are useful and the rest will be junk.

Meanwhile he went over his options for getting himself and Zuko out of the Fire Nation. He had enough contacts in the military that finding a ship in port commanded by someone who owed him a favour or two shouldn’t be difficult. And failing that, there were fishermen who would happily take passengers without any questions, in exchange for a large enough payment.

"Will he be okay?" came a quiet voice from the door, and he whirled round, automatically moving into a Firebending stance before he could remember Agni's judgement.

It was the tall, quiet girl who was friends with Princess Azula (although the princess seemed to view her friends more like he'd viewed his troops than actual companions) and he briefly wondered whose interests she had in mind.

But she was looking at Zuko with worry in her eyes, though she tried to keep her expression blank.

"He will," he answered as he relaxed his stance, hoping it was the truth.

She nodded, accepting the words, though he didn’t know if she believed them or not.

It was only when she entered the room and approached the bed he'd laid Zuko on, that he saw what she was carrying. She was smarter than him, perhaps, in some ways; she had brought burn salve and bandages.

He continued packing, as she applied the salve, inexpertly. There was much more to treating a burn this serious than simply dabbing on some salve, but it was better than nothing, he supposes, so he didn’t stop her. She flinched as skin came away on her fingers, and Zuko whimpered, but she was not deterred.

He came round once, blinking up at her with his good eye (Iroh wonders if the other can be saved). "Mai?" he asked blearily.

"Hey," she said in response, gently stroking a hand down the unburned side of his face, leaving a smear of blood and skin behind, and he was gone again before she could say anything more.

Finally she wrapped the bandage around his head, cutting the excess off with one of the many knives she carried.

He took the salve and the excess bandages and added them to the bag before closing it. He was done, and they cannot afford to tarry any longer.

He was amazed that Ozai had not come for them already. Likely he had his hands full trying to stave off a crisis that could cost him his power and his throne. His constant Firebending training has kept him physically fit, but without his bending he was vulnerable, and it was his own actions that had brought this upon them. If he allowed people to think, to realise all this, to allow the knowledge to take root in their minds, then he would lose everything.

He had to assert his authority, to remind them that he was their ruler, to snuff out the dissent before it could happen.

But that wouldn’t last much longer before he managed to spare enough time to order some loyal guards to find his son, who made the ideal scapegoat.

He bowed to the girl – Mai – before picking Zuko up, wrapping him in the blanket in a flimsy disguise that was the best he could do, and turning to leave.

"Wait!" she called out as he was nearly to the door. He turned back to look at her.

"Let me come with you!"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. But it's too dangerous. Zuko will be hunted. I can't risk anyone else coming along."

She nodded, understanding, and didn’t argue. She knew she couldn’t go with them. You didn’t survive in Azula's orbit without learning practical lessons on basic survival. But she'd felt she needed to ask anyway.

Then she reached into her pocket and pulled something out, before darting up to him and thrusting it into the bag. "Give this to him, will you? Please?"

He bowed once more, and she returned the gesture.

Then he fled through the chaos that the palace had fallen into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the original script of the first episode revealed that Mai had given Zuko a heart-shaped volcanic rock & he kept it with him during his banishment. I think that's super sweet & have chosen to include it here.


	2. Any Port in a Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iroh's escape plan hits a large snag.

Iroh sat in the brig of a Fire Navy ship, holding his nephew’s hand as he absorbed the news.

⁂

In retrospect, the signs were obvious.

⁘

The medic shaking his head in concern, saying that the infection had cleared up, and he no longer appeared feverish, but his temperature was higher than it should be. “Normally I’d consider it normal body temperature for a Firebender, but now…” He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. _Now there are no Firebenders_.

It was just the last lingering traces of the fever, they’d agreed.

⁘

Zuko waking up and seeing his uncle sitting at his bedside, holding his hand. “You should go to bed, Uncle. It’s the middle of the night,” he’d murmured, before falling asleep again.

Of course, the cell had no windows and he’d been barely conscious. Naturally he’d woken up to a dark room and assumed it was night time, and the fact that he was correct meant nothing, since he’d had a 50/50 chance of being right.

⁘

Explaining to his nephew what had happened at the Agni Kai, reassuring him that it was not his fault, that Agni’s judgement had fallen upon his father, not him, no matter what Ozai might be trying to claim by attempting to make his victim into a scapegoat, no matter that they were hidden away in the brig of a ship like criminals. He’d held Zuko as he’d wept, and asked if he felt alright, concerned that the cold emptiness where his inner flame had once burned would be too much for his nephew in the state he was in. Zuko had reported that he noticed no difference.

It was perhaps understandable that he wouldn’t notice, he thought. The poor child was in so much pain and confusion. Of course it would be hard to him to discern any changes.

⁘

With Zuko now awake and fairly lucid, he’d attempted to make some calming tea for him (it hurt to be reliant on spark rocks, but that was how things were now). But the fire kept going out as soon as it lit. Strange, he’d thought. He’d managed fine previously. Mindful that his frustration was probably upsetting his nephew, he moved the teapot away from the bed, before changing the fuel. His next attempt worked.

Must have been defective fuel.

⁘

The Captain, one of the few trustworthy crew onboard, came to hand Iroh his correspondence from his ‘concerned friends’ (actually fellow White Lotus members, but he didn’t trust the man _that much_ ) and pass on what little news they got on a ship at sea. As Iroh read through a delightful piece of propaganda where his brother blamed everyone but himself for the situation, the Captain sought to entertain the quiet boy curled up on the bed, telling him about how they had to use tools to navigate now, no longer being able to unerringly sense the position of the sun. Then he’d asked Zuko what direction he thought the sun was at that moment. The boy had pointed in a particular direction with perfect confidence. The Captain had raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You know,” he’d chuckled. “I think he’s right.”

It was just a simple guessing game. And if he knew the time of day & that they were sailing east, then that would narrow down the possibilities. It was a lucky guess.

⁘

The next time the medic visited, he’d decided it was time to run some tests on the eye while changing the bandages. It was too early to do any kind of proper assessment of how much vision he had, but it would be good to know if the eye was at least functional. He had Zuko cover his right eye and moved a finger in front of the boy’s face, noting the pupil’s movement with satisfaction. Then he’d called for his assistant to move the lamp close to Zuko’s face to check whether the pupil dilated in response to light changes… And Zuko had thrust his hands in front of his face, and the flame had jerked sharply away from him, before being extinguished.

Iroh, the medic, and the medic’s assistant had looked at each other in the dim light of the covered wall lamps. That couldn’t have just happened, right?

⁘

Gently, Iroh sat on the bed next to him, gathering his nephew into his arms. “It’s alright,” he told him. “You’re safe. Nobody will harm you here.”

He continued holding him, rocking him gently, waiting as the shaking decreased, while the medics stood watching, the assistant still holding the unlit lamp. Eventually he felt Zuko pull away from him, just a little. Because he knew he should be too old to need comfort, but craved it nonetheless.

He needed to confirm what he’d just seen, and unfortunately it meant asking Zuko to do something that would distress him. But he had to know.

“Zuko, nephew. I want you to try something for me. Can you make a flame? Just a small one?”

“But… you said nobody can Firebend anymore? Because of me.”

“Because of your father, not you,” he corrected, gently. “And… just humour me, alright?”

The part of him that was _so sure_ the flame had simply gone out on its own somehow wanted to tell him it would be fine, because there would be no fire, there _couldn’t be_. But deep down, he knew the truth of what he’d seen, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie to the boy.

Zuko screwed his face up in confusion, but nodded and held his hand out. Nothing happened, and after a long moment, he began shaking.

“Uncle, I can’t, I-”

He pulled Zuko back up against him, stroking a reassuring hand up and down his arm. “It’s alright, nephew, I’m here. I swear to you that I will keep you safe.”

Zuko breathed, tried again, and this time, a tiny flame bloomed in his palm…

Only to be quickly extinguished, as he gave a squeak of fear of and curled into his uncle’s side, shaking.

The reactions of everyone else present were just as shocked. It couldn’t be true, but it was.

Zuko still had his Fire.

⁂

His next letters to his White Lotus contacts carried considerably more urgency. This was no longer about simply finding a place to lie low until Ozai gave up looking. His brother would tear the world apart to find him if he learned of this.

Zuko wasn’t just a scapegoat anymore; he was a threat to Ozai's power – or a weapon for him to use.

And there was no way Ozai wouldn’t find out. It was one thing to trust the Captain and a few select members of his crew to keep quiet about the presence of a few stowaways, but this? Even if they didn’t actively sell Zuko out, they would talk (how could they _not_ talk?) and someone would overhear.

Word would spread.

The code the White Lotus used to communicate in secrecy had barely been up to the task of explaining how an entire element had been stripped from its wielders. This? How could he properly convey this?

Iroh did his best.

⁂

Iroh held out a hand to help Zuko onto the jetty, but he refused it, jumping off the boat by himself. He took no offence at this, knowing that his nephew was clinging to his pride to cover his shock and pain.

In return, Zuko said nothing when his uncle had to step forward to prevent him from tumbling into the water when he stumbled, still a little unbalanced from the pain in his face and the lack of depth perception.

Now that they and their bags were on land, he adjusted the knot on the rope securing the boat to the jetty. Anyone looking would assume that he was making sure it was tied tight, but in reality he was doing the opposite. It was now tied so loosely that a strong wave would tug it undone and allow the boat to drift away. A simple mistake by a clumsy sailor, and nothing to connect a couple of newcomers to the port to a Fire Nation naval vessel.

He made sure the hoods of their cloaks hid their faces, before leading his nephew through the town towards the shop where he would be meeting his contact. It risked making them look suspicious, but better someone assume they were common thieves than to see their faces and know them as wanted traitors.

Next to him, Zuko peered around curiously, trying to take everything in through his unbandaged eye. This was his first time outside the Fire Nation – a home that Iroh could only hope that he’d one day see again – so everything was so new to him. He’d only heard stories (probably unflattering at worst and patronising at best) of what a Fire Nation colony was like.

More people than he’d expected were waiting for them in the shop’s backroom, and Zuko shied away from them, staying close to his uncle, while trying not to look like he was nervous.

Then he spotted someone he recognised. “Master Piandao! What are you doing here?!”

The swordmaster smiled. “I’m concerned for the wellbeing of my best student.” He nodded at the sheathed swords visible over Zuko’s shoulder. “I hope you’ve been practicing.”

Iroh raised an eyebrow. “I must echo my nephew’s question. I would think you’d be rather popular in the Fire Nation right now, and I doubt his wellbeing is all that prompted your exit?”

This got a grimace. “A little more popular than I’d like.”

The news he’d been able to get on a ship at sea had been limited, leaving him with only a vague sense of the chaos unfolding out in the world, and his colleagues quickly rectified that, filling him in with all that he’d missed on his journey.

Ozai had managed to cling to power, blaming everyone but himself (it was because of his son’s cowardice, the propaganda said, it was because the Fire Nation’s military had failed to fight hard enough, failed to win the war already, it said), and relying on his citizens’ almost fanatical obedience to the throne. (There were undoubtedly people who thought he should be removed from power, but if so, no faction had managed to unite enough people into any kind of organised movement.)

He’d directed their anger and panic outward at the rest of the world, who had been all too happy to seize upon this opportunity. The Fire Nation had spent a century waging war across the world, and if they were to lose now, then their enemies would not be gracious victors.

So the Fire Nation fought on, out of a desperation to avoid a fate that the more self-aware amongst them knew they’d brought upon themselves.

Non-benders were doing their best to train former Firebenders (who had previously scorned them) in weapons and non-bending martial arts as quickly as possible, as the latter group learned that there was a lot more to fighting with sword and knife than simply waving a piece of metal around, and an actual art to throwing a punch or kick.

Troops were digging in and fighting to hold their positions however they could. They found creative ways to use fire in battle without bending, and factories had been tasked with producing machines that would help with that. Rumours abounded of underhanded tactics that would formerly have been considered too dishonourable to even contemplate.

The tide of the war had definitely turned, and many areas long under Fire Nation control had been taken back by the Earth Kingdom, but it was far from over. Perhaps if there were still Airbenders, and if the only remaining Waterbenders weren’t so determined to remain neutral, if the Earth Kingdom wasn’t so vast and fragmented, the nations could have banded together and seized the advantage to defeat the Fire Nation.

But all that had happened was that the war had entered a new, much bloodier, phase.

How long this new state of affairs would drag on for, and whether it would end in the Fire Nation’s defeat, or if they could still claw their way to victory through desperation and sheer force of will, it was impossible to say.

In turn, Iroh shared his account of the Agni Kai.

“So, is it true?” asked one of them, as the exchange of news came to an end. He was eyeing Zuko in an almost hungry way, and there was no doubt what he was referring to.

“Zuko, could you show them a flame, please?”

He’d avoided asking him to Firebend again since his little demonstration a few days ago, cautious of his obvious fear (and even more conscious that Zuko would ignore that fear and push himself too hard in trying to get over it, to his own detriment), but had asked the Captain for more lanterns, and had carefully placed them around their little cell, though not too close to the bed, allowing his nephew to become accustomed to the flames, safe behind the glass.

It was still asking too much too soon though, especially in a room filled with strangers, who had just discussed the misfortune that had befallen the Fire Nation – a misfortune that Zuko alone had escaped.

But it was necessary. They needed the protection of the White Lotus to avoid Zuko being discovered by either the Fire Nation or the Earth Kingdom (it was hard to say which would be worse). And he trusted all these people, even the ones not personally known to him. They had all been vetted, were all people known to have a desire to set aside conflict and pursue peace and philosophy.

He placed an arm around his nephew’s shoulders, squeezing his shoulder in support instead.

“It’s alright, nephew. Just a small one. You’re perfectly safe.”

Zuko glanced warily around the room at the strangers eyeing him curiously, but did as his uncle asked, cupping his hands and summoning a small flame. It flickered erratically in his hands, showing his nervousness at both the presence of fire and of being watched, but was undeniably there.

There were gasps and loud mutterings, and Zuko jerked, startled by their reactions, the flame going out.

“I think the course of action is clear.” Chumeng, who had done most of the talking so far, was the one to recover first. Iroh hadn’t met him previously, but he knew the man was widely respected and a Grand Lotus like himself. He would surely have made arrangements for him and Zuko to hide somewhere.

“The boy must take the throne, immediately, and bring the war to an end.”

…or not.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Iroh, think about it,” pleaded Mahu. “Ozai’s position is precarious, and the Fire Nation is in chaos. This is the perfect opportunity! The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be.”

It was so tempting to say yes, to agree to put Zuko on the throne, to end the bloodshed… To save so many lives…

But what of Zuko?

Putting him on the throne, even if the burden of ruling was mostly taken up by advisors, would be too much for him in his current state. And being asked to wield the element that had scarred him to demonstrate his right to rule?

It would break him.

“Don’t you want to end this?” asked Chumeng, clearly frustrated that Iroh wasn’t jumping at this opportunity. “Think of the greater good!”

“The greater good,” intoned several others, in agreement.

“Of course I do! But not at the cost of my nephew’s wellbeing! He needs time to heal!”

His concerns were waved off. “He will be fine. And what is one boy versus the fate of the world?”

“To me? Everything!”

It hurt that Piandao was remaining silent. He knew how fragile the boy had been even before all this. Iroh knew how hard he’d needed to work to overcome Zuko’s issues after years of harsh Firebending lessons had eroded his self-confidence.

And they surely couldn’t think it’d be that easy? That Zuko would be able to take and hold the throne as easily as anything? A sudden change of leadership, in the wake of a crisis, risked causing more chaos, destabilising things further. And Ozai would have loyal supporters (he must have, to have kept the throne), who would believe the story that the loss of their Firebending was all Zuko’s fault.

Even with the wide influence of the White Lotus, it would be a constant battle. Not something he would want to put a traumatised child through.

They were probably fully aware, he realised. They just saw any lives lost in any potential civil unrest as yet more sacrifice for the _greater good_.

His arm was still around Zuko’s shoulders, and he could feel him growing more and more tense.

“Enough!” Chumeng snapped, stepping right in front of Iroh and staring him down. (None of them had made any effort to engage with Zuko; he was just an object to them.) “This is necessary.”

Zuko began shaking uncontrollably, breathing frantic, before his legs collapsed under him. Iroh caught him before he could hit the floor, carefully lowering him onto the mat.

Iroh glared up at the other White Lotus members. “As you can see,” he bit out, doing everything in his power to remain calm, glad for the first time that he was without his Firebending, because he would have been spitting sparks otherwise. “My nephew requires some time to rest. If you are so determined to have a new Firelord, then it might help to have one you haven’t already driven to his grave.”

He stared them all down, one after another, and eventually they conceded defeat – at least for the time being – and filed out of the room. They would not go far, and there would be people around watching all the exits, he was sure. But at least they had some semblance of privacy.

Piandao knelt next to his former student for a moment, grasping one of Zuko’s hands in his, while resting the other against his forehead.

Well, at least he felt _some_ concern for his student.

Apparently assured, he got up and followed the others out of the room, door closing behind him.

Iroh sighed. Now what? He’d been relying on the White Lotus. He wasn’t sure he could hide Zuko alone, not with his Firebending making him a target. And that was assuming that going it alone was even an option anymore. The White Lotus was not going to simply let them leave.

(Well, he would probably be allowed to walk away, but not Zuko.)

If he still had his Firebending, and if Zuko was in any state to fight, then that would be a mild inconvenience at best. But taking on multiple people, including a couple of Earthbenders and a master swordsman?

He’d tried to help his nephew, but it seemed he’d led him to his doom.

Zuko struggled to sit upright, and he moved to help his nephew, knowing better than to try getting him to lie down for a while longer.

“I’m sorry for bringing you here, truly. I thought they would help us.”

“Uncle, I don’t know how to be Firelord.”

“I know, nephew. I know.” He attempted a smile. “One day, I’m sure you would make a great one. But that is too much for one so young, and you need to recover from this first.”

“But-” he hesitated. “What about the war?”

Iroh sighed.

“I meant what I said. I want it to be over. But I won’t sacrifice another son to the madness.”

It was only after the words were out of his mouth that he realised what he’d said. Zuko’s good eye widened.

“Uncle, I-” And then forgetting his usual determination towards teenage aloofness, he threw his arms around his uncle and began crying. Iroh returned the embrace, rubbing circles on his nephew’s back in reassurance.

Eventually Zuko ran out of tears and pulled away. As he did so, something crinkled in one of his hands.

“What’s that?” Iroh asked.

“I don’t know. Master Piandao gave it to me.” He held out a crumpled piece of paper.

Iroh took it and unfolded it. Then he smiled as he read.

It seemed that Piandao hadn’t abandoned his student after all.

⁂

The two of them watched the boat drift off as they stood on the beach. Kyoshi Island was perfect. Technically part of the Earth Kingdom, but an autonomous territory with no Fire Nation occupation or Earth Kingdom military presence. The downside was that their determination to maintain their independence meant they were suspicious of strangers. But Iroh was sure he could find a way to get past this somehow. Surely nobody would concern themselves with an old man and an injured child?

There was a swish of fabric behind him, and then everything went black.

⁂

He woke up tied to a wooden pillar and blindfolded. He panicked for a moment, then relaxed as he felt Zuko’s warmth at his side. There was movement, and the blindfold was pulled off revealing a man about Iroh’s age, and a group of girls in makeup and clothing that resembled that of Avatar Kyoshi. Behind them lay a small village.

The man got right to the point, not wasting time on even a pretence of greeting. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“Please,” Iroh pleaded. “We mean no harm. I’m simply looking for a safe place for my nephew to recover from his injuries.”

The group’s eyes flicked towards Zuko for a moment.

“And how do we know you aren’t Fire Nation spies?” asked one of the girls.

He decided that honesty was his best bet here. “We are from the Fire Nation, but I swear to you all, that we are not spies.”

This did not help.

“Throw them to the unagi,” the man ordered, turning away. Iroh had no idea what an unagi was, but he didn’t want to find out.

“Wait, please!” He was about to reveal Zuko’s Firebending, but hesitated. Was that really a good idea? He doubted they were going to send them back to the Fire Nation. But the fewer who knew, the better.

But how else could he persuade them to let the pair remain on Kyoshi Island?

Kyoshi Island. The home of _Avatar_ Kyoshi, and named in her honour. And each Avatar was a reincarnation of the previous Avatars…

They were waiting for an answer, and he played the last card that he could think of.

“You serve the memory of Avatar Kyoshi, yes?” He looked around at them, but continued without waiting for an answer. “This boy is the great-grandson of Avatar Roku!”

This earned disbelief from everyone present.

Which unfortunately included Zuko.

“Wait, really?” He could only see his nephew’s bandaged side, but knew his face was screwed up in confusion. “Nobody ever told me that.”

The disbelief on the faces of their captors turned to doubt.

And then Iroh was the one to screw up. “Yes, well,” he sighed. “The royal family is more than happy to benefit from an Avatar’s bloodline through an advantageous marriage, but not particularly interested in advertising it.”

And now the doubt transformed back into suspicion again.

“Royal family?” Weapons were pulled out of sashes.

Uh oh.

Zuko turned the unbandaged side of his face into the pillar and kicked out desperately in a futile attempt to keep the warriors back. Only, not so futile. Flames trailed his foot, and their captors all took a step back, shocked.

“But- we’d heard that there was no more Firebending!” stammered the old man. “That the Fire Nation had been judged by the spirits for their crimes and found guilty.”

“Guilty, indeed. But my nephew alone was spared, and now he is in danger because of that. Please, I am telling the truth – we only seek safety! I can explain everything.”

After several long moments of trying to have a silent conversation through facial expressions, their captors retreat to have an actual, verbal discussion. He could feel Zuko shaking next to him.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I ruined everything.”

“No,” he reassured him. “You did great. This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out about being a descendant of Avatar Roku, and I cannot blame you for being surprised.”

“He’s really my great-grandfather?”

“Yes, really.” He resisted telling him how it had been foretold that mixing the bloodlines of Sozin and Roku would bring great power to the family. The boy had enough pressure on him as it was.

The discussion seemed to have reached a conclusion, and they were approached again.

“Very well. We will hear your story.” The old man levelled them both with a glare. “But if we are not satisfied with your explanation, then I’m sure the unagi will be satisfied by its meal.”

⁂

They were led into the village past the curious stares of the villagers, though their curiosity lacked any true fear, so they’d fortunately failed to see Zuko’s display of Firebending.

He did his best to explain the situation to the village elder, who introduced himself as Oyaji, and the Kyoshi Warriors, who did not introduce themselves at all. He described the Agni Kai, and the events leading up to it (putting an arm around Zuko’s shoulder as he did so), how he’d fled the palace with his badly-injured nephew to avoid his father’s inevitable wrath, only to later find that he alone had retained his Fire, how he’d sought allies only to have them express a desire to use Zuko as a puppet.

Their captors (hosts?) absorbed this mostly in silence, with the occasional clarifying question, and it was hard to judge how sympathetic they were.

“Please. His father wants him dead, and there are people who would hunt him down to put him on the throne.”

“Don’t you want that?” asked one of the warriors.

“Yes,” he admitted, resting a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, wanting to show his pride in his nephew. “But not yet. He is too young, too hurt. He is not yet ready for such a destiny.”

“Kyoshi Island is neutral,” another chimed in.

“All the more reason to not let anyone know he is here.”

There was a long silence, everyone looking around at each other to see if anyone else had anything further to add to the interrogation. When nothing more was forthcoming, they fell into a discussion about what to do with their guests.

He reached out and grasped his nephew’s hand in his, not sure if he was trying to reassure the boy or seek reassurance for himself. Zuko, nervous as their fates were debated in front of them, allowed it, gripping his hand tightly as if scared he’d be torn away at any moment.

Eventually the group came to a conclusion, nodding at each other, before turning back to him and Zuko.

Oyaji fixed them with a severe look. “Well, I suggest the pair of you come up with new names then, if you want to blend in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- You didn't think I was gonna do Piandao dirty like that, did you??!
> 
> \- I couldn't resist that little _Hot Fuzz_ reference. Sorry not sorry. (If you don't get the reference then I definitely recommend watching - it's on Netflix right now, or at least it is in the UK.)
> 
> \- The rest of the story will actually involve Zuko, I swear. I just needed Iroh to be the POV character for the setup because poor boy is too hurt & confused right now to fully understand what is going on.

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS! I finally decided to get a new tumblr, after my old one got nuked. You can find me at [Maiqueen](https://maiqueen.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I am also on Fanexus. Think if Livejournal, Tumblr, & Ao3 got thrown in a blender. I can't share a link to that one because it's in closed beta. If you're also one of the lucky few to gain admittance, then you can find me camped out in the ATLA & Devil May Cry tags. You can find out more about the platform [here](https://twitter.com/fanexus) (there's a link in the pinned thread to join the Discord & be first in line for beta invites). Otherwise I guess you just have to be patient. But as soon as it opens up to more people I'll be able to share it. :D


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